


The Isle of Morley

by Io (thisismygenesis)



Series: Share a Sense of Wonder [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Emperor - Freeform, Gen, Morley, Pre-Dishonored, Setting, Vyncent Blakewell - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismygenesis/pseuds/Io
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“As a result of my studies at the Academy of Natural Philosophy over the Empire, particularly the cultures of Serkonos, Tyvia, and Morley, I, Vyncent Blakewell, have taken it upon myself to explore the Isles and document all that I encounter. The series of entries I compile as well as any volumes that I am able to pen over the course of my travels are all dedicated to my financier, His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin and the entire Kaldwin dynasty.”  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fraeport

I selected Morley to be my first destination because of the animosity and tension between it and the rest of the Empire. Being untested in experiencing the cultures of another nation, I felt that it was to be the toughest one to adapt to because of the rough attitudes people in Gristol attribute to Morleians as an aftereffect of the Morley Insurrection. Though I was anxious as to how the provincials would respond to an foreigner, I was very curious as to whether or not the portrayal of everyday citizens all being Rebels Against the State, otherwise called Rats as my grandfather picked up in the Navy fighting the Insurrection.

The primary detail that must be shared is my first impression. After travelling many months on a ship delivering me to Fraeport, the moment I saw the shores of Morley, my raw and amateur eyes fell in love – with the anticipation of studying, with the fear of venturing somewhere new and foreign to me. Seeing as my adventures are still in their infancy, I have yet to examine whether this will be a feeling shared in all my travels or if it will be exclusive to Morley, and thus affording me a treacherous partiality that will later bring challengers to my observations when my works are featured in classes at the Academy.

As soon as I stepped off the starboard bow onto the unloading ramp, I was assaulted with color. _It’s said that the history of Morley is as colorful as a quilt made from all the flags ever flown and all the clothes ever worn. The land itself hides from the sun under a layer of clouds, and thick gray moss hangs from the trees, but the spirit of the people who live in Morley dances like the firelight._ The docks towards the latter half of the day were crowded with people as the sky was cluttered with clouds, but the people – oh the _people_! – they were a sight to behold. While the fashion in Dunwall is muted tones and an understated air of moderation that the Abbey of the Everyman so widely prefers, the Moreleains were boisterous and outlandish with the blood-red frocks that glowed like rubies, shirts of as many shades as the grass is green, and hats in the deepest blues that were as close to purple as the dyers could get.

After I collected my belongings, I was directed by a sailor to the inn around the corner, named _Elatha’s Moon._ Even without his help, there was no possibility of missing it – there were people coming and going through those doors, crowding together like a bouquet of flowers in their many shades. This was exactly the place for me to begin my research.

Despite the obvious way I stood out from the crowds, my shabbiest suit still too reserved while my best was still too bleak, the people were kind to me, but distant. The innkeeper, a shapely woman by the name of _Beira_ , directed me to the rooms I would be staying in for the month and, though I wanted to ask all the things that had come to mind since before my ship had docked, I felt that only one question was polite.

I asked her why there were so many people just standing around in the square outside the inn. She paused on the stairs, glanced back at me, and laughed heartily before starting the trek up the stairs once more. She did answer me, though, saying that if I stuck around for supper and joined them in the mead hall that I would see why.

I reached the room that was to be mine, dropped off my belongings, and immediately ducked back down again so I wouldn’t miss a thing.

A young girl by the name of _Nevis_ greeted me when I found a chair at an empty table, the last one in the enormous tavern that was attached to the inn. She asked what I would like to eat from the kitchens.

My mentor, Fulk Sension, is known for his the vellums documenting his travels, including visiting Morley many years ago after he fought in opposition to the Rebels Against the State. One particular book he wrote titled _Customs and Food of Morley_ was one that I consulted on research while preparing myself for travel and specifically mentioned abhorring jellied ox tongue, a delicacy in Morley. Not wanting to be outdone by my predecessor and because I am always one to experience new and strange things, I told Nevis that this was what I would like for my meal. This must have seemed strange for she as well as many other guests gave me a strange look, but before I could ask them about it, the room filled with the cacophony of applause.

_Among the people, the love of good food and drink is legendary, with stews and roasted meat dishes most often used to fight off the cold and the dreariness. The nation has a rich tradition of poets, musicians and philosophers, even among the poorest folk. Intellectual tomes and bar songs alike were often penned in Morley._

This is something I came to learn after weeks of staying in town. That first night in the mead hall was my first lesson.

The applause had been for a young couple who had stood and bowed to the crowd. They gave the mass of predominantly male company fair blessings of a grand day of work for the next day before belting into song. In seemed that the two, like the rest of the people in the building, were workers who had just gotten done with their shifts, hoping to toss a few glasses and shoot down a few pints to let the strain of the day melt from their bones.

_A late entry into the Empire, the Morley Insurrection is still a sore point for many natives, and independence is a proud character trait among the people._

They sang of fighting for freedom, and what that freedom cost. They sang of working all their lives only to forget what was important. They sang of lost love and true love, of finding your place in the world one step at a time.

I had almost forgotten about the jellied ox tongue until Nevis brought it back out to me. Though it was not something I was quite accustomed to, I did not suffer from being “excessively cultured” for unlike Sension, I never lived in Dunwall.

My goal first and foremost was to get the people of Fraeport to allow me to get to know their culture. In order to do that, I needed to find a way to get them to open up to me, to accept me, to understand that I wasn’t just another stranger passing through but one who wanted to become familiar with their way of life.

Apparently, ordering a jellied ox tongue was the first step.

It seems that ever since Sension had published that book of his that ranted on about how he could not stand it, no one outside Morley ate the dish. The fact that I did attributed a sort of esteem from the people present that I was not informed of until later.

This actually benefited me more than I could have hoped for. In the mead hall that evenings, listening to the young couple tell tales in songs, was a pair of brothers. The elder brother was named _Barinthus mac Lir_ , or _Barin_ for short. His younger brother went by the name of _Manann_ , which was short for _Manannán_. They worked the docks unloading and loading cargo day in and day out.

The three of us, Barin, Manann, and I actually became close over the course of the several weeks I stayed in Elatha’s Moon. They helped me find a change of clothes that helped me to further assimilate to Morleain culture as well as stay warm. The climate at Redmoor is similar to that of Fraeport, if not quite a bit less severe, and the suits that I had packed in my case were not protecting me from the cold.

After about three weeks since my first night in Fraeport, we were drinking some whiskey to chase the cold away at the mac Lir’s residence that they shared with their younger sister _Aveta_. Several pints were consumed and the brothers were willing to share their first impression of me. It is with their sober and informed permission that I am transcribing their words on these pages.

As fate would have it, they had been working the docks the day my ship had sailed in. They unloaded my luggage and watched as I headed towards the inn. Apparently, they thought I was exactly how they imagined all people from Gristol were: dreary, stuffy, dull, and tedious. The overall opinion of people like me was that we were so stuck in our procedures and precedents, in all those rules and regulations, that we had lost our sight long ago. We had lost our sight into the marvel of the world, the spectacle that is life. We had lost our sense of wonder.

Though I’m sure that the phrasings of a drunken self-acclaimed poet is much more artistic, if not unique, at the core that is what it was.

It made me wonder why I had even been there in the first place. Why was I here in Fraeport? Yes, I was conducting research that the Emperor was kind enough to provide funding for, but I was there because I wanted a see the marvel that was world, to live the spectacle that is life, and the feel that sense of wonder.

So that is what I intend to do with these entries, instill a sense of wonder with the rest of the world and I know that it wants it. The Emperor wants to instill a sense of wonder, and I know this because he wouldn’t have wasted resources on my expedition unless he truly believed in what I could accomplish. Please share the sense of wonder, for I know that there are those that have lost that feeling.

_May the waters be calm, and the tides take you to safe harbor._

_Vyncent Blakewell_


	2. Wynnedown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"After spending an entire month at Elatha's Moon, learning about Fraeport and meeting new acquaintances, it is time that I moved onto the next stop on my exploratory travels, Wynnedown. If my adventures in this following town are half as an enjoyable and the people half as friendly as they have been to me this past few weeks, then I can only expect a phenomenal experience in the near future."_

After bidding farewell to some faces that I had become quite acquainted with that did break my heart a bit more than I had expected, I forced myself through packing up my belongings and checking myself out of Elatha’s Moon. Beira, the innkeeper, directed me towards the carriage of Fagus whom she had previously informed of my intended destinations and had agreed to accompanying and driving me throughout the country. Fagus, as it turned out, was the brother of the woman who sang every night in the mead hall, who I had learned was named Damona. Fagus’ wife, Sirona, would not be journeying with us, and I had asked if it was common for him to go so long apart from his family. Sirona had a job at the local Abbey of the Everyman as a servant and was raising their two children, pregnant with their third. He was so often apart from them that they lived with his sister’s family while he was gone, Damona and her husband helping his wife with the children and the finances while he was away.

While Fagus piled my trunks full of books, journals, and my personal belongings onto the back of the carriage, I pretended that I was feeding a carrot to the horse, Epane, while doing the math. It was to be a four day trip down to Wynnedown since Fraeport was the furthest town from the rest. I was to stay there with Fagus for the constraints of month before moving on to Caulkenny (a two day trip plus a month’s stay), Alba (two more days and another month), and then the final trip to the capital of Arran (a day’s worth of travel and the final month of Morley). With four months and a week away from his family while traveling with me, followed by a week and a half making the return trip to Fraeport, he would be very pressed to make it back home before the birth of his third child.

This was a weight I carried heavily as I boarded the carriage after Fagus loaded his own belongings. Though I knew he understood how long he would be away when he agreed to travel with me, I still felt like responsible for keeping a man from his family.

I did not let this show to Fagus, however, for he was the greatest driver someone could have asked for. He was easygoing and carefree, telling me all kinds of jokes as we passed the two days - some of which I struggled to understand and he was kind enough to elaborate and explain to me.

We voyaged over land the likes of which I had never seen. First were the rolling hills followed by the plains. The region between Fraeport the more metropolis part of Morley was called the Nantosuelta in their more ancient language, which roughly translates to the Mother of the Earth. It was the most beautiful expanse of land I had ever seen.

We spent our days being drawn by horse, but at night we would find refuge in houses of farms we passed. The first night we stayed at the home of an apple orchard where I was able to taste the freshest Morley apples. The next, a rancher was kind enough to let us spend the night, where we were treated to some more ox tongue after my companion had told that tale to the household. The last two night were both at inns, the sign that we were drawing closer to a more densely populated area.

When I finally reached Wynnedown, I experienced the same excitement that I had first setting eyes on Fraeport. Though I was still in Morley and the overall atmosphere was very similar, I had travelled to a different land. Wynnedown was a manufacturing center for cloth since it was settled between the farmlands and the larger cities to the south. Large factory-like buildings were spread throughout the town, smaller houses littered in-between them like they were cuddling right up next to them. The farmers would ship the wool from their sheep and their cotton for clothing, the hides from their cattle to be tanned into leather, and various plants to be turned into dyes.

Fagus drove up to a local inn that he was familier with, the Lenus Inn. Owned by the Lenus family, the proprieter was someone the family hired to run the business. I found later that the Lenus family were very prominent in Wynnedown.

In the Lenus Inn, there were no bards singing in a mead hall for there was not one attached like there was with Elatha’s Moon. The mead halls were separate buildings that was exclusive to members of those establishments, some sort of private union. Needless to say, I was not able to visit any of those during my stay.

Though I was not able to waste away my nights in taverns singing with men when the day's work was done, I found another place to spend my time - one the Abbey and the Academy would be more partial towards.

In the more central part of the town was a college and was only known as such though it was basically only a speaking hall. The college hosted speakers from all walks of life - even the common uneducated worker was allowed to speak his mind. Men (and women) would congregate once a week to hear the thoughts an beliefs from both outside the nation a well as inside. Though Fagus said it was nothing if not a small community center compared to the grand scale to the Hall of Alba, but I was amazed by it.

It used a form of open forum discussion that would be frowned upon at the Academy for the larger portion because of how the topics weren't strictly educational, however the level of participation was so high that it demonstrated that this was indeed a strong outlet for people to partake in as stress relief, much like those of Fraeport with their mead hall.

Now that isn't to say that the people of Wynnedown were more educated. Several of the people that spoke behind the podium were old and confused, still believing that the Inssurection had never ended, despite it having been generations since Morley joined the Empire.

Though the majority understood what the man said to be false, they had let him speak anyway, clapping respectfully at the old man's age as he took his seat, laughing quietly at his confusion. Songs, poetry, and philosophical debates usually followed.

A conversation came up about the existence of the Outsider. Questions arose about whether he really was one connected to the dark magics like the Abbey of the Everyman believed. One man, who had been schooled somewhat at the Hall, suggested that because the frequency with which the Abbey speaks of the Outsider with such detail of his methods that it becomes a subconscious portrayal of our the ill intentions of those who progressively less sound in their mental processes.

It started some considerable thought on both my part and in the college over the topic. The discussion lasted for quite a while before switching onto another topic, followed by another, which continued on until the early hours of the night.

The month passed in a blur of open forum debates and interviews by people who were willing to sit down and spend time answering my questions. These were fewer than the ones from Fraeport, for these people always seemed to be going to one place or another. If they weren't heading to the start of their shift, then they were heading to their break or back from break, heading home to fix dinner or to the mead halls to unwind. Not many wanted to waste their free time with me. Makes sense - if I was working the ten hour shifts they were, I wouldn't either.

Definitely allows me time to thank the Void for enjoying what I do as well as the opportunity that I have been given that so many like me haven't had the great fortune as I have at the cost of Emperor Euhorn and his generous funding, which is greatly appreciated. 

 

_May the waters be calm and the tides take you to safe harbor._

  
_Vyncent Blakewell_


	3. Caulkenny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I have found myself in Caulkenny, a city that is the most like Dunwall since my arrival in Morley. During the month I stayed here, I mostly document family life in a more strenuous environment than previously documented as well as a glimpse into the family dynamic that is mostly universal throughout the Empire._   
>  _  
> I also hear congratulations are in order to our dear Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin on two accounts."_

I hear that congratulations are in order for His Imperial Majesty and his impending wedding! Since the people of Morley are unfamiliar with the members of Dunwall’s society, I have not been told the identity of my future Empress, but I am sure that Emperor Kaldwin would have picked a woman fully qualified to run the Isles alongside him.

In addition to the acquisition of a bride, it seems that there will also be some sort of progression of teh industrial kind brought about through government funding. Though it sounds too good to be true, it is being said that a former Academy student by the name of Roseburrow has discovered a new fuel source in the form of whale oil? Astounding!

I knew a Roseburrow at the Academy. We weren’t close, but there wasn’t a student who didn’t know his name. He was a brilliant student, one of the brightest students of the age. His ideas and dreams for the future dwarfed my plans of traveling around the Empire, but after we departed, I had only heard that he had been struggling to find his way. Someone of his intellect definitely deserves to have the find of the century to hold up to his name. Great things are in store for him.

The reason as to why I am documenting the rumor mill in my educational observations is as a reference point. Fodder for conversations in Gristol from months ago, like the Emperor’s new bride and whale oil energy, are only reaching Morley now. This demonstrates a sociocultural aspect of how distanced I have become from the epicenter of the Empire and how long it takes information, even idle gossip that tends to fly like the wind, to breach the distance between two islands. Based on my calculations of star coordinates mentioned in the rumors, saying that the Imperial proposal was in line with this star, or that this planet was in the cusp of this cycle for the whale oil find, they both happened around the time I had started staying in Wynnedown.

As I write this, I am concluding my stay in Caulkenny, the manufacturing depot for Morley. Fagus and I were able to stay at the home belonging to a member of his extended family. What I find intriguing about our place of temporary residence is that everyone in the family works. I am not just referring to the parents, I am meaning young children, too.

The mother is unwell, so she tends to stay home and is only one reason for much financial strife in the family. The father, Fagus’ distant cousin, is a drunkard who has apparently been drinking his way out of several jobs just in the last five years, ever since his wife got sick. They were originally farm folk, but moved to the city after a heavy drought sapped their income and stripped their chances of paying off some of the mother’s medical bills.

The girls all work at the same place, a seamstress shop owned by a family friend. The younger ones, aged seven and nine, run deliveries or pick up materials from various outlets that the shop owner buys from. The older sisters, thirteen, fourteen, and seventeen, help with the sewing, embroidering, and patching up. The eldest, Reva, is often left in charge of the shop while the mistress is out and runs it just as efficiently as the owner.

The three boys, aged ten, twelve, and fifteen, are all sent off to their apprenticeship and learn various trades. One is learning to be a carpenter, one is learning to be a blacksmith, and one works at a distillery.

The family dynamic is centered around the parents, predominantly the father. Though he has not shown a tendency towards violence, it has been brought to my attention through observation and Fagus’ accounts that he frequently would drink away the money if he got his hands on any of his children’s earnings, or end up committing unfaithful acts.

Though Fagus has oft demonstrated his disappointment for his cousin with his facial expressions and his words, he has told me that it would be inappropriate for a man outside of the nuclear family, a member of the extended family who is almost an acquaintance, to intervene in family matters as long as things stay peaceful. It would be offensive to not only the cousin by embarrassing him in front of his community, but it would embarrass his eldest son who is the sub-level “man of the house” while his father is indisposed. It would be a reflection on his performance in his father’s place, saying that he was not running things as smoothly as he should be would would shame the entire family.

I asked if this was just a Caulkenny phenomenon, as if the extensive level of family members out in the workplace would be the cause of worry in regards to saving face in front of society, but he said it was like that in Fraeport as well, which got me to thinking.

This is something that happens everywhere. The degree varies depending on location, but shame is a powerful foe in society in Gristol as well. The politicals and the financials of the districts worry about what their reputation could do to their way of living. It was the same thing here, just that it permeated to children as well.

I spent most of my time this past month observing the people of the district that I was residing. Most had their children working as well, whether their financial situations were better or worse that Fagus’ cousins. It just seemed to be the norm.

Maybe that new whale oil fuel could allow for the construction of devices that could allow children to be children again. I don’t dare to hope that such a thing is possible, for I am no engineer but a social philosopher.

 

_May the waters be calm, and the tides take you to safe harbor._

_Vyncent Blakewell_

**Author's Note:**

> _"If you are interested in anything that I may have shared, need further elaboration on any point I may have expressed, or perhaps like to disclose your own personal encounters travelling across the Isles that make up our fair Empire, please feel free to write to me. I am always eager and happy to help share in a sense of wonder."_
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> _\- V. B. -_


End file.
